Accidents Can Have Its Benefits
by TheSeventhCastaway
Summary: Hermione and George meet up on a rainy day. George makes a mistake, making Hermione angry, but guilty. She makes it up to him. Short chapters. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

_**I'm sad to say I don't own this...huhuhu. JK Rowling does. :)**_

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Hermione black flats clacked against the paved road of Hogsmeade. People stared at her, whispering to one another. She didn't mind, really; after the war, interviewers had hounded her asking her very unnecessary questions. Who cares about what kind of toilet paper she used?

She groaned, causing more strangers to look at her. She still did not pay them any attention. She was too busy trying to cover herself from the steady drizzle that had replaced the bright sunshine.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice called. Suddenly, her day seemed as if it was sunny again.

"George!" she beamed, clasping her hands together. The Weasley twin towered over her, holding a small umbrella.

"Hey," he grinned. "What are you doing around Hogsmeade?" Hermione didn't answer right away. She hadn't seen him for over a year. Why was he suddenly up and about, smiling?

"Uh, just picking up some parchment and quills." she replied airily. She brushed away some raindrops that found its way to her bushy curls.

"Not surprised." George smirked. Hermione punched him playfully in the arm.

"Oh, how rude of me!" George pretended to fuss, acting very much like his mum. "I forgot that it was raining."-the drizzle had turned into a heavy rain- "and Little Ms. Perfect Prefect is cold and alone in the rain! Here," he scooted over a bit, giving her enough space to duck under the umbrella.

"Thanks." she immediately felt better once she squeezed in. She was so close to him, she could feel his warmth. "What are you doing here, anyway? In Hogsmeade, I mean."

George looked ahead, not meeting her eyes. "Lunch Break. I left the shop to Verity for a little while."

Hermione frowned. "But it's only nine a.m.-"

"Fancy a butterbeer?" George interrupted. He walked hastily, forcing Hermione to run to catch up with him. "Or a firewhiskey?" he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Hermione snorted, relieved that his pace had slowed. "I'd rather a butterbeer, thanks."

Ten minutes later, they were sitting at a tiny table, their knees occasionally bumping. They sipped warm butterbeer and cooled their hands by holding one another's. They laughed and talked. They shared stories and asked questions.

"Where have you been? I haven't seen you since last year." Hermione took a long drink of butterbeer, giving her a foamy-moustache. Her tongue darted out, trying to lick the foam.

"I-um," he couldn't stop looking at her. Why couldn't he stop looking at her? This has never happened before...she had such beautiful eyes...why did he notice that? "uh.."

He didn't know it, but he leaned in. He saw her brown eyes flutter closed, and-

"Oh Merlin!" George jumped up. He spilled butterbeer all over her! "Oh, gods, Hermione, I'm so sorry-"

Hermione seemed slightly irritated. The sticky beverage was dripping from her hair. Her shirt was soaked. She held her hand up. "George, I need to go change. Sorry, I have to go." _Pop, _she had apparated away.

One of the pretty waiters tapped a very shocked George on the shoulder. "10 galleons, please." she waited expectantly.

George sighed and dug out some change out of his pocket.

* * *

**_ONLY FIRST CHAPTER :))_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**I do NOT own this! JK Rowling does!**_

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Hermione arrived in front of her apartment door, wet, sticky, and annoyed. She fumbled with her key and finally got the door open on the third try. She sighed as she attempted to unstick her keychain from her hand, but gave up and ran both under water. She switched off the faucet and made her way to her bathroom. She left the faucet running in the bathtub. She stripped off her clothes, wrinkling her nose in the strong aroma.

Hermione wrapped herself in a towel and sat down in her worn chair in front of the fireplace. She yelped loudly as George's face appeared in the fire. "George!" she screamed, covering herself with a pillow. "_I am in a towel!"_

George's cheeks burned, and his blue eyes widened. "Oh, Gods. I'll just...um...bye." His face was gone before she could blink. She blushed, thinking about George, and walked to her bathroom and shut off the faucet. Hermione slid into the soothing warm water and closed her eyes. Her mind cleared, and she smiled in satisfaction.

Thoughts drifted away from her head, and she remembered something. Her brown orbs flew open in realization and surprise. She sat up and gasped. _George tried to kiss me,_ She thought worriedly. He_ tried to KISS me. And we were about to-until butterbeer...and...oh Merlin...I was about to kiss him, too...and I left...Ugh! I am such a jerk!_

She _had _to make it up to him. But how? She just ruined everything! Hermione quickly showered and raked her hands through her hair, scrubbing shampoo into her curls. Her hand got caught in some knots, and she winced in pain as she jerked her head back and forth, trying to free her hand. She climbed out of the bathtub and put on some jeans and a t-shirt. She threw in some floo powder on the logs of her fireplace, and muttered "Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"George!" She called, and he turned around. "I'm sorry. I know how to make it up to you."

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_**I'm still thinking, so don't expect new chapters for maybe a few weeks, because I have exams as well. c:**_


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMERS! I do NOT own this! J.K. Rowling does. Not JK-ing.**

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"How?" George asked, facing her excited expression through the fireplace. "Not that it's your fault, 'Mione, I was the one who messed it up. _I _need to make it up to you."

Hermione shook her head and knitted her brows together. "No, no. It was mine. Nevermind, okay? I don't want to get in a row about this. Take it as a gift. For the butterbeer. Please, just come. It'll be fun."

George smiled at her and sighed dramatically. "Fine."

She beamed. "Great! Meet me at Calloway Apartments **(A/N: sorry, I couldn't think of anything else, plus I was reading How NOT To Spend Your Senior Year.) **Room 625 (**OTHER A/N: Check this page in Deathly Hollows :D. Not my ship right now, but i love them anyway.) **at noon. Okay?"

George smiled half-heartedly. He still felt guilty. "Okay, um, what're you planning, then?"

She winked. "I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, George. Hang in there." Her face evaporated from the green flames.

George chuckled and ran a hand through his red hair. He smoothed it down, but it stuck up in its usual messy way. Wait, why did he even care? It wasn't a date, was it? _No, of course not. _he thought. His heart sank. _It's just some fun. For the butterbeer, she said. Besides, she probably has a boyfriend, maybe. Hopefully not. I mean, I want her to be happy-why am I thinking about this? _

He glanced around his room to find clean clothes. Shirts were strewn everywhere. A pair of underwear hung from his bedframe. George assumed it wasn't originally a crusty brown. The only decent looking article of clothing smelled like Gnome Manure. He let out an exasperated breath that he didn't realize he was holding. "Okay, George," he said to himself aloud, tapping his owl's cage. "Time to write to Ginny."

* * *

Ever since the war, George didn't want to talk to anyone, and he wasn't comfortable with the other way around, either. He tended to the shop with the help of Ron-who talked to him constantly and came over thrice a week-and on other times, he stayed in his flat. George only went out for groceries and shipment of products. In fact, he had gone out earlier that day for Canary Creams before it got canceled and he ran into Hermione. Also, Ginny had written to him that she was around Hogsmeade.

Ginny had always accused him of fancying Hermione, but honestly, he didn't know himself. How could you tell if you fancied someone? Does your heart melt, does your brain go blank?

George wondered briefly if he had just described seeing Hermione.

_Did _he fancy her?

_Well, mate, _he thought to himself, _You did try to kiss her. So you MUST like her._

Once again, Hermione's face popped up in his head. _Not like, _he decided firmly against his own will. _Love._

Suddenly, Ginny burst through the door. "I read your letter! I came as fast as I could!"

Ginny looked absolutely frazzled. She wore a tank top and worn shorts with a hole on the side. Her flaming red hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, strands of hair falling out of the tiny elastic and onto her freckled face. Her green sneakers were dirty and old. She had slung a neon yellow backpack over her shoulder and it was filled with something that seemed soft and bulky. A crazy smile was plastered on her face.

George snickered. "Geez, Gin, I didn't think that you would've dressed up, but this is..."

She laughed weakly and waved a lazy hand, as if shooing away a nargle. "I was in a hurry to help you, okay? I was too excited!" Ginny squealed.

George rolled his eyes and pointed to the bag suspiciously. "What's in it?" Ginny, in response, grinned in a twin-like way. " Things for the make-over for your date with Hermione. I never thought you'd actually ask her out, George, but you do make a good couple, really. It doesn't hurt, too, that you fancy her." She winked.

"Oh, no, no, no, no," he backed up, putting two hands in front of him. "I know you've been planning this since you were ten-"

Ginny nodded, pursing her lips. "I have,"

"But I am not a doll." George finished, crossing his arms over his chest. Ginny merely rolled her eyes at her older brother.

"No, of course not. You are a twenty-two year old SINGLE man who hasn't gone out on a date with anyone since the Yule Ball."

George clutched his heart dramatically and dropped to his knees. "Ouch."

She shrugged. "The truth hurts, George. Do you want a good time with her or not? I _know _you fancy her."

He pulled himself up and sank into an old love seat. He opened his mouth to protest, but seeing the knowing look on Ginny's face, he clamped it shut. She was right. He muttered a small, reluctant, "Fine."

Ginny jumped and smiled brightly. "I'd expected as much. Now, let's get to work."

* * *

George learned a lot from Ginny about Hermione.

Her favorite color was red. She didn't care about her bushy hair. She used to date Ron (George choked on his saliva), but broke up soon after. George also realized something without anyone's help: Hermione is _not _just his little brother's best friend anymore.

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**Okeyday, guys, I have decided where they shall go. I have a very very big hint: Let's hope George likes rollercoasters.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimers! I do not own HP. **

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Hermione raked her hands through her bushy hair. She didn't know the _slightest _thing about the Weasley twin. She reached for the phone.

* * *

Hermione always fancied George. She had never told anyone besides Ron, but it was only because he guessed so. She was never really sure herself. After she and Ron broke up, Ron had approached her tentatively, raising an eyebrow. "I know you fancy my brother, Hermione," he said.

"What?!" Hermione dropped her thick books on the old wood of the floor. They landed with a dull _thump. _She bent to pick them up and regained her composure. "How specific, Ronald. You have five, may I remind you?" She winced. She didn't want to include Fred, she knew it was still a sore subject.

Ron smiled wearily. "Got it that bad for George, huh?"

Hermione opened her mouth as Ron, still grinning, said, "Specific enough for you?". She hugged her textbooks close to her chest and clamped her mouth shut. "Is it that obvious?" she asked worriedly.

Ron nodded and a smile played at his lips, pleased with her obvious discomfort. "Yep, everyone knows, it seems, except for George. Blind as a bat."

She turned to Ron, holding a steady gaze. "I'm sorry, Ron. I wasn't sure."

"It's okay. I reckon it would be best not to tell George that we..erm...used to date." he pointed out. Hermione nodded and laughed. Ron was about to walk away before he turned around. "Hermione?"

"Yeah, Ron?"

"You can tell me anything, okay? We're still friends." He told her.

"Yes, of course, Ronald..." she trailed off, staring at George. She vaguely hears Ron's voice. "Sorry, did you say something, Ron?" she turned to face her friend, but he was already climbing the stairs, shaking his head and muttering.

* * *

She dialed Angelina's number.

"Hello?" a tired voice came out of the phone.

"Hi, Angie, it's 'Mione." Hermione greeted her.

"Hermione! How are you?" she replied warmly.

"I'm fine. Great, really. But how are you?"

"Okay," Hermione could almost see her shrug nonchalantly. "Just got off from my job. Busy day at Gringotts."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. "Are you too tired to come over?"

Angelina sounded surprised and eager. "No, not at all! I'll be over in two minutes!" she put down the phone.

Hermione sunk into a chair, grabbed a book, and waited.

* * *

One normal day, Hermione was (not surprisingly) reading in the commonroom.

George was sitting on top of the table across her seat, writing something down on a piece of parchment. Hermione frowned disapprovingly. It was probably another invention for their silly dream shop. He tapped his quill noisily against his knee, biting his lip.

"You know," George suddenly broke the peaceful silence, twisting the brown quill in his long fingers. "Ickle Prefect Ron likes you."

She focused on the same line over and over again in her book, George's words ringing in her ears. _ Witches and Wizards below the age of seventeen are forbidden to use magic outside of Hogwarts, unless they are in deep danger and the situation is urgent. _"I know," was all she said, knitting her brows at the page. _  
_

"And?" he waited impatiently, rapping at the wooden table with his knuckles.

"And what?" she peered above the heavy copy of _Hogwarts: A History, _raising a brow and glaring. What did he want with her?

"Don't you fancy him back?" he smirked, and something flicked underneath the light, carefree blue of his eyes. Hermione shook her head slightly. He wouldn't care anything of it-except teasing her, maybe.

She pursed her lips and was about to respond when Ron walked in, smiling brightly at them. Hermione especially.

* * *

Angelina knocked neatly on the door. "Coming!" a voice called. She heard soft footsteps, and the door swung open to reveal Hermione.

She looked quite flustered, tired, and happy. "Hey, Angie," she greeted her, pulling Angelina into a hug. Angelina hugged her back. "Hi, 'Mione," she said warmly.

Angelina let go and placed her hands on her hips. "So, why did you call me here? Is there something wrong? What do you need?"

Hermione took a deep breath, knowing Angelina would fuss over her once she said it. "What do you know about George Weasley?"

* * *

"George Weasley, huh?" she said, surprisingly calm. She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, his brother-Fred Weasley-died at the second wizarding war a year ago. George is nineteen years old-"

"No, no, Angie," Hermione shook her head. "You're close friends with him. What are his interests? Favorite color? Does he like roller coasters?"

Angelina's dark eyes widened. "_You fancy him!" _she jumped around in a circle, squealing like a little girl. "Oh. My. Gods. That is adorable!"

"Angie!" Hermione hissed, placing a hand over her mouth. "Just tell me what you know"

She let go reluctantly, her hand ready, and waited for an answer. Angelina stared off into space, thinking. "Quidditch, of course. Believe it or not, he actually enjoys tranfiguration. Orange-typical, right? Totally clashes with his hair-and, as far as I know, he's never heard of one. That's an odd question, the last one." she shrugged.

Angelina walked quickly to the other half of the room, then raided her closet. She tossed out t-shirts and worn jeans. Most had holes in them. She finally pulled out designer pants, a sleeveless orange blouse, and a thin beige cardigan. Hermione silently cursed her aunt for getting her those.

Her mouth fell open at the cotton cardigan. "Are you _mad? _It's _early February!"_

Angelina stared at her steadily. "Don't you want George to have a good time? I swear, after you put these on, he damn will." She smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine," she muttered under her breath. She grabbed the clothes from Angelina and scurried to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her.

* * *

"Angie..?" Hermione's voice lingered, annoyed.

"Yeah?" Angelina frowned at the model on the magazine she was reading. She was way too skinny. She looked like a stick insect.

Hermione emerged from the bathroom, in her clothes that Angie had picked out. "Are these jeans _supposed_ to cut out my blood flow?" Hermione laughed at her own joke shakily.

Angelina sniffed. "It looks nice! George'll like this." she handed her some soft orange flats.

Hermione bit her lip. "I was wondering if I could wear sneakers." She nodded at a pair of muddy blue Converse. It was a bit navy gray now.

Angelina looked horrified. "HERMIONE," she said, her dark eyes bore into hers. "I know I can be a bit of a tomboy, but I know what to wear and what not to wear to impress a boy. And believe me," Angelina smiled reassuringly at her friend. "He will get impressed."

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**YAY! I finally reached 1000+ words! Hope you liked it c:**


	5. Chapter 5

George stood nervously in front of Hermione's apartment door. "Bugger," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "What am I going to do?"

He pressed the doorbell. A pleasant chime rang in his ears.

"Coming!" George heard her running to the door. His pulse quickened.

Her door swung open to reveal a beaming Hermione. His blue eyes widened, his mouth dropped open. She looked gorgeous, as usual. She had tucked her curls inside a red muffler wrapped around her neck. A thin cardigan was thrown over a soft orange blouse. His favorite color.

He figured it must have been a coincidence.

She waved a small stick with some sort of cloth wrapped around it. George realized with a smile that it was an extendable umbrella. "I won't forget to bring one this time," she grinned. George felt slightly disappointed; it was nice to have her beside him so closely.

"Well, Little Ms. Perfect Prefect," he smirked, "I forgot to bring one this time. Guess we'll have to share," he shrugged playfully.

* * *

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling wildly. **(A/N: hehehe just put this for her POV.)**

* * *

"Fine," she pouted.

George felt a pang of disappointment but grinned, offering his hand out comically.

"Oh, wait!" Hermione exclaimed, giving George a start. He turned around. "What? did you forget something?"

"Yes!" Hermione ran inside her apartment, gesturing for him to come in. George chuckled and stepped through the door.

The first thing he noticed was that it was quite simple and small, most unlike his own flat. _His _flat was filled with loud colors and whizzing incomplete inventions on the floor. Hers was undeniably neat.

The second thing he noticed was the huge bookshelf.

The third was that something was shielding his vision.

* * *

"Hermione?!" George bellowed, flailing around. He groped to find his companion.

"George, relax!" he heard Hermione laugh. He felt her soft, tentative touch on his arm. "It's just a blindfold. I want it to be a surprise."

"Oh," he said sheepishly, knowing that some color had risen to his cheeks.

"C'mon George," she said softly. She wound her small fingers into his thin, broom-calloused **(A/N: Oh gods i just realized what i put XD sounds WRONG.)**

"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible. He let her lead him out, both very aware of the feel of each other's fingers.

* * *

They took the muggle way.

George could make out sounds of whirring cars. He could see the bright headlights even from under the blindfold. He figured that he was in a taxi.

"Why are we taking the muggle way?" George asked quietly, so that the driver wouldn't overhear them.

"We don't want attract unnecessary attention. We're going to a popular place. For muggles," Hermione explained under her breath.

"Y'know, you can just take out this blindfold, tell me where you're taking me, and save my curiosity and time. Then we could have a good snog." he wiggled his brows, but his ears were tinged with red, and he knew it.

Hermione giggled shakily. "Sorry, George. We'll have to stick with my plan."

* * *

George's nose twitched under the blindfold. He could distinctly smell something sweet and...mustard?

He felt Hermione undo the knot from behind him. The piece of cloth fell to the floor, which was littered with confetti and pieces of crumpled-up paper.

George blinked on the brightness. He gaped at the sight; dazzling, neon colored lights sting his eyes but stood out in the vast darkness of the night. What he had smelled before was cotton candy and hotdogs, the smell wafting all around them. Tall rides towered over their heads. They seemed so small compared to them.

"Where are we?" George stared, mouth open.

Hermione beamed, but her smile wavered nervously. "A muggle carnival!"

* * *

**Not very long, is it? I'll try to update soon. Hope you liked it! C:**


	6. Chapter 6

**Wonder what rides George will scream in? MWAHAHAHA (evil laugh) (lightning) (Perry the Platypus must be here to foil my OTPinator...) The mummy is in here, but they are not in Singapore or whatever. I am terrified of roller coasters and I rode The Mummy, and I screamed my heart out. A scaredy cat Gryffindor. That's a first.**

* * *

"A muggle...carnival?" George stood rigidly before a wide smile spread on this face.

Hermione let out a huge sigh of relief. "It's not much, but I used to come here all the time with my dad. The rides here are great." Her eyes glinted with excitement.

"I've never been to one before!" His huge smile spread more-if it was possible. He shook Hermione by the shoulders, glancing around. "Are there rides? What kind of rides?! Are they fun? What's that spinning wheel thing-that tall one with the lights? It's as slow as Binn's talking." He let go of Hermione, his hands lingering slightly against her back. She felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine.

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, bloody hell, there was this one time he was sort of drowsy and he talllkkkkkeeeeddddd liiiiikkkkkeeeee thiiiiiiiiiiissssssssss." He demonstrated, his eyelids dropping to a half-covered state and snoring.

"No, no, I mean you've never been to one?" Hermione laughed. George shook his head.

"You've never ridden a roller coaster?" She said.

George tilted his head so his long hair fell over his deep blue eyes. "A what? Is that an animal?"

Hermione grinned. "Here, George," she clutched his hand and squeezed his fingers reassuringly. "I'll take you to my favorite."

George couldn't help but grin back.

* * *

It turns out that Hermione's favorite was The Mummy.

George shrieked as they rushed backwards. "Oh my gods-AHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Hermione chuckled. He had also screamed when he saw the grim reaper, the skull, the man clutching The Book, and when they fell down from a steep drop. He hung his arms around Hermione for-what seemed to him-dear life.

When they stumbled out, George stood shakily on his legs, a half grin plastered on his face. He held a trembling thumbs up. "Great..." He said slowly. She wondered if he was impersonating Professor Binns again.

"Okay, George," Hermione draped her arm around his broad shoulders with difficulty. He was too tall for her. "We won't ride anymore roller coasters."

"No, 'Mione," he protested, leaning against a light post nearby. "You brought me here. You should ride what you want."

Hermione beamed. "Let's take a break. How about a burger?"

Seeing his confused expression, she rolled her eyes teasingly. She indicated the height and shape of a burger. "Meat, cheese, onions-"

"Onions!" He looked stricken. "How are we going to have a good snog?"

Color rushed into her cheeks. "I-uh, um.." She stuttered.

"I have an idea." George said quietly and raised one finger up. He stepped closer to her, leaning down. "Let's start now."

He cupped her small, pale face in his palms and he could see her cinnamon eyes widening. George brought his face closer to hers, like how he did at Three Broomsticks. His lips met hers in a soft kiss. His calloused fingers traced her jaw line and her cheeks. She responded dreamily and agonizingly slowly. Her hands landed in his red hair, curling it around her fingers.

They vaguely heard catcalls and snide voice, saying, "God, get a room, will you?"

He held her like fragile glass, as of she was made of something easily breakable. They pulled away begrudgingly, gasping. Hermione silently cursed her need for oxygen.

* * *

George suddenly didn't mind riding The Mummy, but the deal was that now, Hermione would hold onto him instead of the other way around.

* * *

**Ze end. I'm finally done with this story. I am not good at chapter fics. Review, please!**


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